


Dirthamen's Secret

by CardboardVox



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, F/M, One Shot, Qunari Culture and Customs, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, discussion of treatment of mages under the qun, no beta we die like men, spoilers through the iron bull romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CardboardVox/pseuds/CardboardVox
Summary: A Word written lovingly on the inside of your wrist that tied you to your soulmate. The Ehlvenen claim it to be a gift of Dirthamen. His blessing. Humans recite passages of chant about it. The Avvar say it is a gift from the Earth. She didn't know what it said about Words in the Qun. (Or, Vox shows up years late with the soulmate AU no one asked for.)
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Iron Bull, Inquisitor/Iron Bull, Iron Bull/Female Lavellan, Iron Bull/Lavellan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 81





	Dirthamen's Secret

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting as a WIP in my google docs for years, and since I'm currently unemployed I thought it would be a good time to wrap it up. At the time I started writing this I'd never seen this concept before. My apologies if it's close to anything that's been written more recently, and please enjoy my first published fanfic in over a decade.

Elanna Lavellan had always hated her word.

It was common across human and elven culture alike to keep Words – _Dirthamen’s Ensalem_ – secret. But elven children, especially those who played in the wild were always eager to show it off to one another. The Word, which appeared when the child was about five years of age, was a gift, after all. In Elanna’s clan one girl had what she claimed to be Elvish script on the inside of her wrist. Her parents said it meant she was to marry a Keeper, one day. Another boy, older, fretted over what humans they had traded with told him were words in Rivaini.

Elanna’s word was another matter entirely.

Her Word, if you could call it that, was a strange symbol her parents had cooed over at first. “Mamae,” she had called proudly when it appeared, thrusting her wrist into her mother’s face. Though like their daughter they thought it was beautiful, her parents puzzled and puzzled. Neither had ever seen anything like the symbol before. It wasn’t long before they went to the Keeper.

“Qunlat,” the older woman said firmly. “Keep it hidden.” She would say no more.

Elanna’s father fashioned her a small brace like archers wore and told her never to share it with anyone. When they thought she was asleep her parents whispered to each other. “She’ll be kidnapped - a slave!” When her magic began to manifest their murmurs turned frantic and panicked. As she grew older and learned what happened to mages in other parts of the world, Elanna began to have nightmares. She would wake in a sweat, rubbing her wrists where she’d sworn her hands were cuffed and worried about the heavy collar that rested on her shoulders. She’d touch her mouth to be sure it hadn’t been sewn shut in the night.

That was when she first learned to fear qunari.

* * *

A Word written lovingly on the inside of your wrist that tied you to your soulmate. The Ehlvenen claim it to be a gift of Dirthamen. His blessing. Humans recite passages of chant about it. The Avvar say it is a gift from the Earth. She didn't know what it said about Words in the Qun.

Over the years she learned not to think about any of it. She was the First anyways, she had a duty to the Clan. She would be the next Keeper, and she didn't have time to worry about what love or some ugly symbol under the brace meant. She was too busy learning to call the elements, and keeping herself free from demons.

Elanna could not let it be a distraction… or a temptation.

* * *

Herald of Andraste was not a term that sat right with her. All her life she’d followed the elven gods - and now she seemed to be some kind of _pawn._ Even flat-ears were calling her Herald, like the shems. It made her stomach roll, but the people she was meeting seemed to be good. She forgave Cassandra more every day, looked up to all her advisors, idolized Varric only the slightest bit and spoke at lengths with Solas. Sera puzzled her, but seemed mostly like good fun, and Vivienne was dazzling.

Though she’d tried not to, she often thought back to those first days, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of the other’s Words. Most of her companions hid them cleverly, and thus far she’d only gotten a glimpse of something haphazardly scribbled onto Sera’s skin.

She’d spent her whole life surrounded by familiar faces, none of who could read or write a word of qunlat, but knew to fear it. _They_ knew something horrible was written on her arm. Here Lavellan was writing her own rules, flirting with her new friends and worrying about more than her clan (although she did still worry, sending people to watch over her family). No one knew about her Word either, so sometimes they flirted back. It was exhilarating, even if it came with a title that didn’t suit her.

Bull laughed when he talked about the Tamassrans. She’d hesitantly asked him about marriage and sex. His blunt willingness to talk about it eased her nerves and steeled her for her next question. He looked like he’d expected the conversation to end there, but she soldiered on.

“Do qunari have soulmates?”

He startled, just a little, and she suspected she’d been correct that he wasn’t expecting any further questions. “We’re told not to worry about it. Since qunari don’t believe in love, and don’t have names per se. The words on our wrists could mean anything.”

“ _Anything?_ ”

“They say some people find their,” he huffed a little. “ _Soulmate_ , but there’s no room for that sort of thing under the Qun.”

“That’s,” she struggled a little. “Very sad.”

“Is it?” The Bull had regained his composure – if anything he looked a little stern instead. “I’ve seen men fall apart trying to find their soulmate. They become obsessed and - what’s the saying? Can’t see the forest for the trees?”

“But there are so many more _happy_ people,” Lavellan countered, remembering the joy of couples in her own clan, and those she met on the road. She thought of the people in the Hinterlands who had each other even as their worlds were falling apart. “Even if you don’t have your soulmate yet, or can’t read your Word, you know there’s somebody out there meant for you!”

He considered this. “Can’t read your Word, huh?”

She flinched and looked away, feeling sheepish. Lavellan reflexively grabbed her right wrist, even if it made her marked hand throb. “No it’s… It’s in another language.”

“Boss,” he hesitated, then gave her the most genuine smile she’d seen on him yet. “No worries. Mine too.” His admission eased the tension she’d held in her stomach, and she beamed back at him.

She started flirting with Bull here and there after that, but he never took the bait. She heard whispers from several men and women alike around Haven whom he had bedded. She felt her ears warm at two giggling Chantry sisters discussing a night with him, but she’d been unable to pull away. He was appealing to her - his demeanor, his size and even his willful ignorance of her flirting intrigued her.

Secretly she wondered about her Word. She wanted to ask him about it, but she was hesitant. Lavellan went to Leliana instead, knowing that if anyone could keep a secret it would be Sister Nightingale.

Leliana had been worried that the Herald had wanted her to look for a match, but nodded in understanding when Lavellan explained she was only looking for a translation.

The next time she returned from the Hinterlands, Leliana pulled her aside. “It means _liar_ ,” the spymaster told her. “I’m sorry,” she said when Lavellan’s face fell. “That was all I was able to find out for sure.”

Lavellan couldn’t stop her foul mood after that, and immediately began to gather everyone together for a trip to the Fallow Mire. At least then she’d be able to blame her attitude on the weather.

* * *

Weeks later they found their way to Skyhold, and Lavellan found herself helping her new friends as much as the people of Thedas. She liked it that way – it kept her busy and kept her mind off the Word on her wrist.

_Liar,_ the voices in her head chanted. A criminal? An adulterer? How could something, someone so terrible be in her future?

She welcomed any distraction, and when the people of Crestwood were being terrorized it only seemed right to fight the source of their plight. Iron Bull had been with her and practically begged for the chance to fight the dragon. Varric and Dorian had looked less enthused, but wondered at the body when they’d actually killed the thing.

And Bull, Mythal bless his heart, was running around like a lunatic while she, Dorian and Varric groaned. She’d send scouts out to pick the carcass clean of materials later, but right now she just needed a rest.

“If you’re so excited,” she panted, feeling her legs giving out as she sunk into the mud. Couldn’t it stop raining for a few minutes? “You can carry me back.” Lavellan had never been so exhausted in her life. She’d been silly to think that the attack on Haven with its onslaught of Red Templars was as bad as it could get. She’d never used so much mana so quickly, but she and Dorian had been working overtime to make sure Bull had a decent barrier up since he was the only one going head to head with it.

“Hold on Boss,” was the only warning she had before she was lifted into the air. “A _dragon_ ! You’re the _best_ .” She laughed and let him carry her back to camp while Dorian and poor Varric struggled to keep up. She _had_ told him to carry her, after all.

* * *

Lavellan was surprised when she went down into the Tavern and Bull was missing from his seat. She fretted a little, only _sort_ of recalling her night of drinking the strangest stuff she’d ever had with him. Things were a little fuzzy, but she’d been delivered up to her room, no matter how clingy she might have been.

(She’d all but given up on flirting with him until last night. Lavellan had assumed he was uninterested in sleeping with her for professional reasons, but she definitely had a recollection of him inspecting her chest.)

But Krem was gone from his seat as well, and when she stepped outside she’d followed the crashing sounds until she found the two of them bashing into each other. Relieved she walked out to check in with them.

Moments later she was gathering up a team for the Storm Coast.

* * *

She wanted to like Gatt. Bull clearly did. But every time he opened his mouth she hated him a little more. 

“Hissrad,” Gatt finally said in a nasty tone. “It means ‘Liar’.”

_Liar_ , the familiar voice in the back of her head roared. Her world reeled and she looked to Bull who would not meet her eyes. She wasn’t staring at him for the reason he thought, but he had no way to hear the resounding, repeating screaming in her head.

Later, when he looked to her for a decision she didn’t hesitate. “Time to retreat!” He would break without the Chargers. If he was Tal Vashoth he could not be reeducated by the Qun ever again. Lavellan would not let her soulmate be broken.

When they got back, and he was struggling with a loss of faith, Lavellan made a decision for herself. She would wait, and then when he was on his feet again she would ask _him_ about her Word. She stood with her hands on her hips by the ramparts and grinned at him. “Pack up,” she told him. “You deserve some fun after all of this. That researcher still wants help luring out that dragon.”

His eyes lit up and her heart warmed.

* * *

When he approached her, she couldn’t turn him down, promise to herself about her Word or no. The first few times they were together they were at least partially clothed. She wore an open shirt, sleeves covering her arms, and he kept a cuff firmly over his wrist. She wanted to ask to see his Word, but he had already proven he could read her face. He would see her disappointment if she found the handwriting on his wrist didn’t match her own.

Whispers started in the tavern that the Iron Bull had been ignoring his favorite serving girl for quite awhile now.

In passing she asked him about love again. This time his answer was more forthcoming. A dragon’s tooth… she had a few of those.

* * *

“Bull,” Lavellan started, then hesitated. She’d just told the most important people in the Inquisition that she intended to continue her relationship with Bull. Now it was time to prove it. She turned on the bed, resting a hand on his calf. “Tell me about your Word?”

His expression had gone sort of irritated before everyone left, and it darkened further at her question. “Why?”

She pulled her hand back, furrowing her brow in surprise. “Bull, I–”

“I don’t want to disappoint you, Kadan.” His mouth twisted and he looked away from her.

“Kadan?” His face grew impossibly more strained, and he said nothing. “Well fine.” Lavellan felt her own face screwing up in frustration. “I know that’s not the word for _mage_ ,” she said it like a curse. “So at least there’s that, but Bull if you can’t trust me to–”

“It means ‘my heart’, “ he cut her off, letting no emotion through his voice. Cold. Things should be different between them now, she didn’t like that tone accompanying such a declaration.

She rocked a little on the bed in shock and rolled up her sleeve, pulling off the cuff she kept wrapped around her wrist at all times. She thrust her arm out, palm up towards him in offering. “Does this mean anything to you?” Her heart pounded like a war drum, fearing his answer.

He finally turned his head back, face shifting again as he looked over her wrist. Instead of saying anything he sat up on the bed and began to unbuckle the one piece of clothing on him besides his eyepatch. “None of the Vidithari could read it,” he said softly before showing her the inside of his forearm. “It’s not a real word. That’s why I…” Bull trailed off. “What are you laughing at?”

Tears she hadn’t realized she held back began to stream down her face even as she laughed. She couldn’t help it. “That’s the word, _halla_ , Bull.” She climbed onto his lap to pull his head down to hers for a kiss. “That’s the first word I ever wrote.”

“Ever?”

“I began to learn old Elvish before common. It means halla, Bull! It’s not indecipherable, it’s poor penmanship. I was so proud - I wrote it everywhere, my parents were sick of seeing it!”

Finally his face eased into that smile she loved so much. “Kadan, I–”

She kissed him again, silencing whatever he was trying to tell her. For what felt like the first time in years, her stomach eased. She couldn’t feel ashamed of her Word when it belonged to this man.

Hours later she was still stealing moments with Bull. They’d relocated up to her personal quarters, taking advantage of locks and bedposts. She felt herself slipping into sleep, her face tucked into the crook of his neck when he finally spoke up.

“I’m sorry that’s your Word.”

Lavellan pushed herself up, blinking and willing wakefulness into her mind as she pushed her nose against the side of his face. “I didn’t like it for a long time. My parents feared that I would be stolen when we learned it was Qunlat.”

“You were afraid of me when we met.” It was not a question.

She looked straight into his eyes, and nodded. “I fear every qunari I meet. Not that I’ve met many. I was scared of… being bound.”

“I bind you.”

“Not like that.”

“Not like that,” Bull agreed, touching his thumb to her mouth. She shuddered as he dragged it over her lip, pushing away the fear of stitches stopping her from calling out her spells. No doubt he was thinking of the same. “When you asked me if I think about the qunari taking over here – it made me sick to my stomach.”

They watched each other in silence for a moment. “I’m not afraid of you anymore. I trust you.” She rolled off the bed and moved languidly to her clothes. “I have something for you. I wanted to give it earlier, but I got… distracted.”

She heard the creak of the bed when he sat up, and she returned with the tooth cradled in her hands. “Is that…?”

“A dragon’s tooth,” she smiled. “Split in two, so no matter where life takes us we’re always together.”

Bull straightened when she leaned in, allowing her to loop and tie it around his neck. It looked too large in her hands, but seemed the size of a normal necklace on him. Lavellan giggled a little at the thought before he pulled her in for more kisses. “You always manage to surprise me, Kadan.”

“I’m going to keep doing it, too.”

“I look forward to it.”


End file.
